


the perks of being clumsy

by cygnus (sunsprite)



Category: Day6 (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, College!AU, Fluff and Humor, M/M, brian is a big fluff of sunshine, jae is a lil shit, jae is also a good friend, lots of fluff and awkwardness, wonpil is a clumsy cutie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-28
Updated: 2017-10-28
Packaged: 2019-01-25 11:21:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12530176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunsprite/pseuds/cygnus
Summary: (“I make you nervous?” Brian asks a little teasingly.“Um, if you couldn't tell already, I literally went underneath the table to hide from you.”)In which Wonpil has a crush on the really attractive barista working at their local Starbucks on campus that reduces him into a bumbling mess, and manages to completely embarrass himself into oblivion.





	the perks of being clumsy

**Author's Note:**

> HOPE U ALL LIKE IT ENJO Y

“You’re being _extremely_ creepy.”

Wonpil reluctantly shifts his gaze back towards Jaehyung, who’s quirking an unamused eyebrow at him while he pretentiously sips on his caramel macchiato. The scrutiny makes his cheeks burn a little bit and he can physically feel his face flare into a bright red, but he hopes that the morning sun rinsing the clear sky, spilling past the windowpanes and outlining their figures, would dilute the susceptibility. 

“I’m-- I’m _not_ being creepy,” Wonpil adamantly denies, almost sputtering, as he drops the book he was using earlier as a shield onto the table and nearly knocking over his own drink as he clumsily grabs at it, “I-- I was just, you know. Looking at the menu. Totally not creepy at all. Shut up.” 

While Jaehyung rolls his eyes and scoffs, throwing in some snarky comment about how blatantly obvious Wonpil is, he can’t help but drown out his sarcasm among the hazy, background noise, as Wonpil finds himself staring at the barista working behind the counter, whose smile would rival the same degree of brightness as the stars and had shot through Wonpil’s heart the first moment he’d saw him. Not to mention some embarrassment, because as he remembered the first time he’d laid eyes on the barista, Wonpil had walked right straight into a telephone pole when he was admiring his beauty through the window outside. Needless to say, it took a whole week for the bruise on his forehead to heal. 

With pewter, silver hair with tints of blue, doe-like eyes that sparkle whenever he smiles, and a golden complexion to match his sunny disposition, it didn’t take Wonpil to develop a full-blown _crush_ the size of Manhattan on him. What’s worse is that he doesn’t even personally know the guy-- except for his name on the tag clipped to his apron, which was Brian.

Wonpil isn’t the kind of person to just go up to someone he found cute and really, _really_ attractive and to just-- _flirt_ right on the spot. Wonpil, in short, was the _king_ of embarrassing himself and being an awkward edgelord with absolutely no experience in the arts of seduction. He’s content and satisfied with just admiring from afar, even if he does have the tendency to stare for prolonged periods of time without being aware of it. 

“Dude, just ask for his number or something,” Jaehyung expels a frustrated groan, kicking at his shin underneath the table, “You’ve been dragging me to this Starbucks for almost a month just so you can pathetically pine over the guy. I have better things to do, y’know.” 

Wonpil stares at him, “Did you just play footsie with me?” 

He shrieks when Jaehyung balls up a used paper napkin and throws it at his face, “Shut up, you idiot sandwich. Finish up your coffee so we can _go_ already, or else we’re gonna be late for our afternoon classes.” 

“Rude,” He pouts, and his ears perk up at the familiar, tinkling sound of hearty laughter from the counter, where the barista is laughing at something his co-worker had said. He has a pleasant, sonorous voice as well as a pleasant laugh, not to mention how his eyes creased into endearing crescents, and Wonpil feels his heart undergo a complete starburst at the sound. 

But then the barista is suddenly turning around for some apparent reason, and while his heart is floating on cloud nine in a dreamy daze, he realizes that he’s been staring right at him. And Brian, with his dark, curious eyes, was staring back. 

He’s staring at Wonpil.

He caught Wonpil staring.

The engine in his head short-circuits and an alarm goes off resoundingly, telling him to fucking _abort_ , and Wonpil immediately rips his gaze away as he fumbles for his coffee, nerves sparking and heart beating as fast as a pair of hummingbird’s wings out of apprehension. He blew his fucking cover for being discreet and hopes that Brian doesn’t think he’s some kind of creepy weirdo with a fixation problem, and right now, he just needs to get out of the place before he can be confronted for having a staring problem. Sure, maybe Brian had the appearance of an angel, but what if he’s not as tolerant when it comes to things like this? Wonpil didn’t do well with confrontations. The last time Jaehyung confronted him about a trivial thing, they both ended up crying. Wonpil really didn’t want to cry in front of a gorgeous dude-- and, oh God, he seriously needs to leave before he can embarrass himself even further.

As if things couldn’t go more downhill, his antsy butterfingers had to knock over his cup of coffee out of sheer embarrassment and nervousness, and the contents spill past the lid and he almost screams and curses at his innate gracelessness while Jaehyung expels a string of colorful expletives, saving himself and his expensive clothes from the possible stains. Wonpil quickly picks up his cup before piling a mountain of napkins on top of the transparent puddle, internally apologizing to nature for wasting trees, but it quickly soaks up into a soggy, swampy mess. Like shit. 

“Jeez, you’re like a bull in a china shop,” Jaehyung offhandedly comments, scooting backwards. Wonpil’s face burns more when he notices that they’ve attracted attention from a few people in the vicinity. “Remind me to never put you and my most prized possessions in the same room together. You could just stand there and breathe and you’d still manage to break something by some inelegant force of intangible nature.”

Wonpil sputters, “Stop with your la-di-da nonsense and get me more napkins instead of poking fun at my misery, you big meanie!” 

“I’ve got you covered.” 

Wonpil whips his head up so fast he almost gets whiplash when he instantly recognizes the smooth, honeyed voice. Brian is standing there with a friendly smile and a towel in hand, and Wonpil was embarrassed to the fucking core, because the barista had seen the _entire_ thing. Blushing was no problem, but his face went as red as a beetroot and radiated heat like a hot pan and Wonpil is pretty sure someone could have cooked a three course meal on his burning face. He wanted the earth to open up and swallow him whole, but there was no rescue from this embarrassment. It was absolute torture. Utter humiliation. The memory would be seared into his brain forever, ready to pop up and torment him again when he was ever in a quiet moment. Time to add it into his personal hall of shame. 

“Uh-- um I-- uh,” His mind can’t seem the conjure the right words, nor coherency, and Jaehyung audibly snorts. 

But Brian doesn’t seem fazed as he bunches up the wet, coffee-soaked paper napkins and throws them away before he wipes the table down, “Are you okay, though? The coffee didn’t burn you or anything?” 

The fact that he sounds sincere and earnest makes Wonpil melt at spot, but at the same time, he wants to smash his his head repeatedly against a wall and cry a bit at the mortification. 

“N-- No,” He finally manages to speak-- or croak, in this case. “Um, I-- thank you. And I’m sorry about wasting your coffee. And your napkins. The trees don’t deserve to be used in such a horrible, wasteful manner just because I couldn’t even hold a cup properly-- oh God, I’m a terrible person, aren’t I? And I should really stop talking now because I need to go,” Wonpil immediately sits up, his chair screeching as it was hurled backwards from the sudden momentum, and the chair tilts and crashes onto the floor with a shrill thud. Wonpil jumps and hurriedly picks it up, apologizing to no one in particular but the air, as Jaehyung bursts into laughter. 

Brian is staring at him, blinking, mouth opened as though he’s about to say something but Wonpil beats him to it with rushed, clumsy words, “OkayIreallyneedtogobye.” 

He snatches his book and grabs his backpack and nearly trips over his own two feet as he sprints for the exit, ignoring Jaehyung’s, “What-- _hey!_ Wait for me, birdbrain!” But all Wonpil can do as he’s outside of the coffee shop, hands cupping his own warm, burning cheeks, is to grieve how he completely, utterly, confoundedly embarrassed himself three, consecutive times on the same day in front of his crush, who with no doubt, now thinks he’s some kind of floundering, awkward, bumbling weirdo with a staring problem and no coordination in accordance to his own limbs. 

Wonpil stops in the middle of the sidewalk, covers his face with his hands, and screeches.

 

\-- 

 

“Kang Younghyun.” 

Wonpil looks up to find Jaehyung throwing his sandwich onto the lunch table, plopping down on the seat across from him, “What?” 

“That’s his actual name, but everyone calls him Brian.” Jaehyung shrugs, unwrapping the plastic foil on his sandwich before he takes a large bit of it, speaking with a mouthful, “Turns out he’s in my Music Theory class. I didn’t notice him before, but that’s probably ‘cause I don’t pay attention to shit. He’s real popular with the ladies _and_ the men, though, but I had the chance to talk to him when you bailed on me the day you embarrassed yourself horribly-- which, by the way, was fucking gold-- and turns out, he’s also a pretty cool and chill dude. I approve.” 

“What-- what do you mean you _approve_?” Wonpil almost shrieks, “I’m never showing my face to him ever again! I’m never stepping foot into that Starbucks even if my life depends on it!” 

“Aw, c’mon, bro. Don’t be so melodramatic,” Jaehyung scoffs, waving his hand flippantly to dismiss such absurdity, “He found it just as funny as I did. In fact, he said-- as I directly quote-- that you were _cute_ , hm?” He wiggles his eyebrows at him, eyes gleaming with mischief behind his circular glasses, before he sing-songs, “Which means you have a chance!” 

Wonpil’s mouth is left southbound. _Cute_? Him, cute? There’s no way-- absolutely no way, but his heart skips a beat at hearing that but he knows-- he _knows_ it-- that Jaehyung’s probably messing with his poor heart again like he usually does, “That’s bullshit, okay, because we all know how incredibly nonfunctional I get around people I like and-- and I’ll mess things up! I mean, I _wasted_ his napkins. _No_ one wants to be with someone who wastes napkins, which also means wasting trees, and wasting nature, and wasting the _earth_.” 

“You sure you’re not exaggerating?” Jaehyung stares at him, deadpan, “The only way you’ll ever get laid is if you crawl up a chicken’s ass and wait. You should seize this opportunity, you doofus.” 

Wonpil plants his hands onto the table, and leans forward, “I’m 100% serious and not exaggerating.”

Jaehyung looks just about done with him when his eyes flitter to something behind him and he quirks a brow, before his gaze returns back upon Wonpil who was now trying to resume eating his burger and fries in peace. “Well, we can see if he’ll give someone who wastes napkins a shot from the person himself, ‘cause Mr. Hot Coffee Guy is coming our way.”

Wonpil chokes on the fries in his mouth and he whirls around, eyes widening with cheeks puffed up with food that made him look more or less like a chipmunk. Wonpil feels his hands become clammy and hopes that the crowd of students inundating the space between them brings enough time for Wonpil to hide as he nearly spits out the fries in his mouth and dives beneath the table, taking his backpack with him. Jaehyung yelps from the sudden gesture.

“Dude, what are you _doing_ \-- “

Wonpil frantically shushes him and bumps his head against the tabletop in the process, “Pretend I’m not here!”

“But he literally _saw_ you, man.” 

“Who cares! Just tell him I’m--” 

“Avoiding me?” 

Wonpil hits his head against the table once again when he whirls around at the sound of the voice, to find Brian grinning at him with his painfully handsome face while he’s half-crouching down beside the table, guitar case slung around his back. Wonpil feels his face heat up and wonders how many times he’s blushed profoundly in seconds in the span of a whole month. 

“Um. No. I was just-- uh, you know, trying to find a coin I dropped. ‘Cause you know me. I’m clumsy, ha- _ha_ ,” He gives a robotic laugh at the end and wants to mentally smack himself. Jaehyung tries to kick him and almost scuffs him on his nose with the tip of his sneakers. 

Brian doesn’t seem to be weirded out-- in fact, he even laughs. He sounds and looks more amused than anything, “Are you going to just stay down there?” 

“Maybe,” Wonpil mumbles, hugging his bag close to his chest as he feigns looking around the ground for the fabricated coin. 

“Huh, that’s a shame.” Brian hums, frowning in a playful manner as he tilts his head, “I thought I’d get to know the really cute guy who frequents the Starbucks I work at, but I guess not today, hm? Anyways, Jae! How are you, buddy?” He takes a seat on the chair and scoots closer to the table, and Wonpil nearly has a heart attack at their close proximity, but then Brian’s words slowly settle into his mind as he processes it.

He called him cute. He called Wonpil cute. He really thinks Wonpil is cute. 

_Cute._

_Cute?!?!_

And that he wants to get to know him? Wonpil pinches himself to see if he’s dreaming or not, and he winces, and it supports the notion that he’s really not dreaming and he’s actually in the flesh, hiding underneath the table with cheeks burning the shade of cherry popsicles. Brian wants to get to know him-- him, of all people, who wasted napkins on spilled coffee.

And the thing is, it would have been easy for anyone else to just roll out from underneath the table and re-establish a firm introduction back to the social codes of interaction, but Wonpil couldn’t. He just can’t, not when he embarrassed himself again, and he wants to go home and bury himself in his blankets and gripe about how timid and awkward and nervous he got around the walking embodiment of sunshine. So, Wonpil and his idiot sandwich of a mind, stays underneath the table as Jaehyung and Brian exchange a cordial talk about music and whatnot, while Wonpil dreads the magnitude of his life choices. 

It’s been a couple of minutes when Jae suddenly stands up, grabbing his bag, “Well, sorry guys. I can’t stay here for too long since I’ve got a class in a couple of minutes, I’ll be on my--”

Wonpil hurriedly wraps his arms around Jaehyung’s legs, making the latter stumble and make a surprised noise. He was lying-- he didn’t have anymore classes, and Wonpil can see the plot he was calculating in that stupidly clever brain of his. 

“Let go, Pil,” Jaehyung sighs, prying his arms away from his legs. “I’m doing you a favour, you know? Show some appreciation for your best friend, will ya?”

“I’d tell you how I really feel, but I wasn’t born with enough middle fingers to express myself in this case.” Wonpil hisses and he hears Brian break into laughter at his witty remark, and his chest feels warm at the bright sound. 

Jaehyung rolls his eyes as he finally slips from Wonpil’s grip, “See you later, _lovebirds_!” 

The laughter abruptly dies down while Wonpil sputters after him. He stays underneath the table for a contemplating minute, before very slowly, he peeks his head out from beneath the table, across from Brian, meeting Brian’s gaze at his reappearance. If Wonpil’s ability to perceive wasn’t deceiving him, Brian looks a little bashful, a small and timid smile on his face.

“Couldn’t find the coin?” 

Wonpil manages a nervous chuckle, “No.” 

Finally, he gets out from underneath the table and settles on the seat across from him, hooking the straps of his backpack around the back of his chair. Wonpil shifts uncomfortably at the silence. What should he even say? What was even appropriate to mention at times like this? He really wishes his inhibitions hadn’t placed a mental block in his mind, because all he can think about are the times he’d embarrass himself replaying vividly back in his head, and the way Brian is just staring at him like he’s some pseudo-weirdo who looks around for a coin for almost fifteen minutes underneath the table, _really_ doesn’t help at all. 

“I’m still really sorry about your napkins,” Wonpil blurts out before his mind could catch up with his mouth, and he feels his face grow hot. _Real smooth, Wonpil, real fucking smooth. Enough with the napkins already._

The sudden apology renders Brian still, but then his eyes crinkle and his lips pull into a brilliant smile, amused laughter spilling past his lips until he’s pillowing his face with his arms on the table, “It’s-- It’s okay, I'm serious. You don’t need to apologize for that at all, Wonpil.” 

“But I’m an environmental enthusiast and I _wasted_ napkins,” He whines, and it only adds fuel to Brian’s laughter. At least he found him funny. But then something clicks in his brain, instilling curiosity and confusion, “Wait, um. You know my name?” 

He has the audacity to look embarrassed, smile turning demure, “I-- uh, overhear you guys talk sometimes-- which is unintentional! You guys are just really loud when you bicker, and I heard your name by chance, so, uh.” Brian chuckles gently, shrugging to end his sentence. 

“Oh,” he says. 

“Sorry, that’s kind of creepy, isn’t it?” He scratches the back of his head meekly and Wonpil immediately denies it with vehemence, waving his hands around.

“No, no! It isn’t weird at all, I--” _Not as creepy as me staring at you, honestly._ “I’m flattered, actually, that you remember my name. I-- i mean, I go there often so it’s understandable, but I just, you know, really like your guys’ coffee.” 

“Oh,” Brian mirrors him, but his face falls just slightly and disappointment is etched across his features, and that same conspicuous time, Wonpil feels his own heart plummet down into the pit of his stomach at the sight. 

He doesn’t know why he looks so disappointed, but Wonpil stammers, attempting to bring that smile back on his face even if it means humiliating himself again, “And-- and, I mean, not only for the coffee but, uh. But also for the really, really attractive barista who works there and always greets me with a pretty smile and doesn’t mind me wasting napkins because of my clumsiness and makes me nervous all the time.” He ends the last word of his sentence with a voice that’s been raised a few decibels higher out of nervousness. His entire face, his _body,_ heats up. He’s a walking tomato at this point, but it’s worth it when he sees pink dust Brian’s cheeks, his eyes wide and gleaming, mouth curving into a wide, uncontrollable and warm smile. And at the show of happiness and warmth, Wonpil can't help but smile too. 

“I make you nervous?” Brian asks a little teasingly.

“Um, if you couldn't tell already, I literally went underneath the table to hide from you.” 

He laughs, “You don't need to be nervous around me though! I'm the most uncool person ever to exist on this planet.”

“If you think you're uncool, I must be even more uncool.” Wonpil frowns. 

“Nah,” Brian grins, eyes twinkling, “I think you're adorable.” 

This was it. Brian Kang is going to be the death of him. He was not good for his heart at all.

While Wonpil goes red to the tips of his ears, they end up talking about little things to start off, mentioning tidbits about their lives as busy and poor college students. Wonpil can frankly listen to Brian speak all the day- the way his voice moves in accordance to his emotions and excitement like the waves of an ocean, and his expressions were all so genuine and soft, and he always responded with sincerity to Wonpil’s blubbering mess. But it was fun-- Wonpil likes talking to him, getting to know him and his modesty but the confidence he had, conspicuous in his movements and the way he presented himself. And it must be a miracle that Wonpil hasn't embarrassed himself yet, and he's grateful he's able to even function somewhat properly around him. 

In summary, Wonpil finds himself falling deeper. 

He almost drops his phone when Brian bashfully asks to exchange numbers too when he needs to leave, and he's barely suppressing his glee from the huge ass smile he has on his face. He just can't help it-- Brian’s optimism was contagious. His heart feels like shooting up towards the sky and past the troposphere, and maybe somewhere in the back of his mind, he's thankful to Jae and his meaningful actions behind sarcastic, witty comments. He'll still have to kick his ass later, though. 

“So, uh. I'll text you any time?” Brian stands up from his seat, smiling. 

Wonpil eagerly nods, “Ye-Yeah, of course. Any time. Even at three in the morning is good too. College students never sleep.”

That elicits a laugh from him, and boy, Wonpil is deeply endeared, “That's true. Well, I'll see you around then, Wonpil! Come by Starbucks again and I'll treat you something!” And he throws him a wink-- a _goddamn_ wink, of all things, and leaves Wonpil sitting there with his mouth hanging open, gawking with a red face. 

But there's a large, beaming grin on his face, and in the middle of the school canteen, he squeals into his hands. 

Maybe being clumsy had its perks, after all.

**Author's Note:**

> THANK U ALL FOR READING ILY !!!!!


End file.
